


i'm just trying to hold my shit together

by hyperandrogenism



Series: impactor cuddles people [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amica Endurae, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Past Torture, Paternal Impactor, Platonic Cuddling, Post-The Transformers: Last Stand of the Wreckers, Post-The Transformers: Sins of the Wreckers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Survivor Guilt, Touch-Starved, for the amount of em dashes and italics in this lmao, my ap lang teacher is going to kill me in my sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperandrogenism/pseuds/hyperandrogenism
Summary: Fort Max has his nose buried in a datapad of security reports while he walks down to a boiler room to check out a "weird noise" Cerebros had reported. Red Alert has been harassing him about seeing a medic, sure his optics need tuning, but he hasn't listened in favor of just holding the datapad right up to his face.So a flash of purple and yellow is all he sees before he smacks straight into someone. He yelps and hears the other mech grunt, then their servo is on his shoulder, steadying him, and he finally looks up. "I'm so—"Then he registers who it is.Impactor. In an abandoned hallway, deep in the bowels of the moon base, with no one else around. They both stop dead, staring with wide optics, and Impactor lowers his servo back to his side.
Relationships: Impactor & Fortress Maximus
Series: impactor cuddles people [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084715
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. they say take it slow, but the world keeps spinning, that i don't control

**Author's Note:**

> so basically in sins roadbuster doesnt die and impactor doesnt leave and the wreckers all stay together, and at some point they go to luna 1 because impactor needs to cuddle fort max and tell him everythings okay and hes safe now
> 
> fort max is also WAYYYY older than i thought??? hes still a kid in impactors eyes tho lmao
> 
> hold it together by mike shinoda (and post traumatic in general) is fort maxs SHIT okay!!!!
> 
> edit 1/30/21: i just realized how many typos there were in this omg. so i fixed some of that lol

Fort Max has his nose buried in a datapad of security reports while he walks down to a boiler room to check out a "weird noise" Cerebros had reported. Red Alert has been harassing him about seeing a medic, sure his optics need tuning, but he hasn't listened in favor of just holding the datapad right up to his face.

So a flash of purple and yellow is all he sees before he smacks straight into someone. He yelps and hears the other mech grunt, then their servo is on his shoulder, steadying him, and he finally looks up. "I'm so—"

Then he registers who it is. _Impactor_. In an abandoned hallway, deep in the bowels of the moon base, with no one else around. They both stop dead, staring with wide optics, and Impactor lowers his servo back to his side.

They haven't talked one on one since the Wreckers came to Luna 1, a week ago. Fort Max is sure Impactor has been avoiding him as much as possible, and he doesn't blame him. He's been doing the same. Getting reminded of what happened, that someone else _knows_ what happened, is something neither of them want to or maybe can take.

"Hey," Impactor says in a gentle voice. Like he's trying not to scare off a wild animal. Fort Max knows that voice well. "Hey, Fortress. Sorry I knocked into you."

"Call me Fort Max," Fort Max says before he can convince himself to make an excuse and run. He slips the datapad back into his subspace. "That's what everyone calls me now. And it's fine." He knows _Fortress_ had started as a jab, a taunt, to be yelled from behind cell bars and usually with _fuck you_ in front of it or _you son of a bitch_ behind it, but it feels too friendly now—something Impactor had whispered to him in the rare moments they got to comfort each other, usually when one of them was going in to see _him_ and one was coming out—and he needs to keep Impactor at arm's length right now.

Impactor doesn't reply for a minute, then he nods. "Okay," he answers. He looks Fort Max up and down. "I heard you woke up a few years back. I wish I could've come to see you, but I figured you wouldn't wanna see me. And if you want me to go now, pretend we never saw each other—"

"No!" It's too desperate, too needy, but Fort Max doesn't care. He presses his servos together in front of his stomach, right in front of the tight knot that comes from talking to Impactor again for the first time since Fort Max went into that coma. "I thought it would be bad, to see you, but it… it feels good."

Impactor nods again, smiling a little, but his optics are sad. "I get it. Same here."

They're silent again for a minute. Fort Max feels _something_ bubbling up in his stomach; fear at being reminded of _that_ or anger at not being protected _then_ or relief at finally having someone who understands _it_ or something else entirely.

Then something cracks in Fort Max. His shoulders slump, his fists ball up, his jaw clenches, and suddenly he can't stand it. Can't stand being _alone._ Before he can stop himself he's rushing forward, pressing against Impactor's frame and wrapping his arms around him and burying his face against Impactor's neck. It's a little hard to slot his treads and shoulders against Impactor's cannon and chest, and Fort Max has to hunch down a little—somehow he never realized that Impactor is just a little shorter than him, though it's not like he ever really thought about it—but Fort Max just wants Impactor to hold him like he's a scared youngling so badly it hurts.

And he does. Impactor hugs him back, squeezing him tight and cupping the back of Fort Max's helm and rocking him a little and murmuring something comforting into his audial. It's so nice. He's safe in the arms of someone who understands, and someone who can keep him safe now, and someone who wants to protect him and everyone he loves.

In that moment Fort Max feels _young_ and _little_ in a way he hasn't in years, since Simanzi at least. Impactor's been around since a couple million years before Fort Max's MTO lot was even conceptualized. He knows he's not _that_ young, not compared to some MTOs, and he’s definitely not small, but still…

Fort Max only gives himself a minute to be comforted, then he’s pushing Impactor away in the middle of saying " _I've got you_ " and taking a step back. He can't bring himself to look Impactor in the optics—he's _Fortress Maximus_ , exalted veteran of the Simanzi Massacre, Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, former head warden at Garrus 9, and he just had a momentary breakdown or something—but he desperately wishes he could spend another few hours in Impactor's arms, just getting held and comforted and protected.

"Thank you," he says quietly, "I, I needed that. Thank you."

Impactor's silent for a minute, and Fort Max can feel his field filled with concern at the edges of his own that he draws tight against his plating. "Welcome," he answers, "If you need anything, to talk or whatever, you know where I am."

Fort Max takes another step back. "Yeah, thanks," he mumbles, then quickly turns and walks as quickly as he politely can in the opposite direction of the boiler room.


	2. they say that they sympathize, i'm grateful they take the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell yeah

Fort Max shows up at Impactor's hab a couple days later. He stands outside for a while before he can make himself knock, feeling awkward and stupid because he needs someone else other than his conjunxes to comfort him. Red Alert and Cerebros are great, amazing, even, but they're both too small to really hold him, and neither of them were  _ there _ . They won't ever understand like Impactor does.

So he knocks. A second later he hears the door hiss as it unlocks and starts to open. As soon as the door is cracked Fort Max sees Impactor and Roadbuster on the berth, curled together and both staring at him in the dim light. "Shit. We thought you were Springer," Roadbuster says.

Impactor shoves him lightly, extricating himself from Roadbuster's arms. "Get out," he says, "You'll get your cuddles tomorrow, promise." He reaches out and rubs Roadbuster's cheek; Roadbuster leans into the touch and Fort Max sees how his visor brightens in what he thinks is a smile. It's a moment of intimacy he doesn't think he should see, so he looks away until he hears Roadbuster start to get up.

"You're kicking me out for him? I'm wounded," Roadbuster jokes, but whatever kind of look Impactor gives him stops him in his tracks. He sighs. "Fine. If you need me, I'll probably be with Springer." Fort Max steps aside to let Roadbuster out, then takes a few steps into the room so the door closes behind him.

Impactor pushes himself up to lean against the wall. "Wanna sit down?" he offers, and Fort Max can feel that same concern in his field. He nods, and quickly makes his way to the berth.

He hesitates, then sits gingerly on the edge of the berth. Impactor's outstretched legs are right behind his back, and Fort Max can feel the heat coming off of his frame. Again, he can't look Impactor in the optics. He looks at the corner beside the berth, where Impactor’s harpoon is leaning against the wall. It’s weird to think of Impactor without it, even in the years they spent in Garrus 9 where he was unarmed. "Springer?" Fort Max asks finally.

Impactor shrugs. "He comes over sometimes. He's a kid, too, not much older than you."

Fort Max wants to say he's not a  _ kid _ , he's three million years old for Primus's sake, but he can't bring himself to protest. Maybe he wants someone to think he’s a kid right now. He rocks back and forth a little. "Roadbuster, too?"

Impactor snorts a quiet chuckle. "Naw. He's my age, he's my amica. We made it official a couple years ago, but we've been close since the beginning. Just didn't wanna do it when things were nasty."

"Oh." Fort Max doesn't know what to say to that. Congratulations? That's great? I hope you're happy together? I have conjunxes, too? He takes a deep breath instead, and the silence is heavy enough to cut with Impactor's harpoon.

Impactor pushes himself up to fully sit, not touching Fort Max, but getting closer with his leg. Fort Max notices every millimeter between them. "Whaddya need, kid?" Impactor asks gently, "I said I'm here for you, and I am."

"I really liked it, when you hugged me," Fort Max admits, as quickly as he can make himself speak. If  _ Springer _ can go to Impactor for comfort, Fort Max can force himself to do the same. "It was nice. You're… warm."

Impactor actually chuckles at that, and Fort Max almost smiles. "I get that a lot. Mining frames run hot. You wanna lie down?"

Fort Max absolutely wasn't waiting for an invitation. He  _ wasn't _ . But he finally makes optic contact with Impactor, and nods hesitantly.

Impactor opens his arms, and Fort Max immediately scrambles into them. It's hard to arrange themselves with all of their kibble and everything, but Impactor coaxes them to fully lie down and Fort Max gets settled, on his front pressed close to Impactor's side with his arm around his stomach and his helm hidden in his shoulder. Impactor pulls a blanket up over them, then wraps his arms around Fort Max, harpoon arm resting on his waist and servo coming up to Fort Max's helm to loosely hold his helm fin.

They're silent. The only sound is their frames working, quiet noises of their engines and fuel pumps and vents. Impactor's engine is a low rumble, comforting against Fort Max's frame. He doesn’t usually let anyone, not even his conjunxes, touch his helm fins, but Impactor’s big servo feels nice there.

It's exactly what he needed, and Fort Max hides his face as best as he can against Impactor's shoulder. He doesn’t want to face this. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to work up to saying what he wants to say.

"No one understands," Fort Max says quietly, muffled against Impactor’s plating. Impactor rubs his thumb against Fort Max's helm fin. Fort Max takes another steadying breath before he continues. "They say they do, but they don't.  _ No one else _ went through it." His voice is weak and he knows he sounds like a kid, but somehow Impactor holding him and the low light and the servo on his helm and how he's half hiding make him not care as much.

"Yeah," Impactor answers, "Kup tried at first, Roadbuster still tries, but they don't get it. They can't get it, and I hoped no one else ever could." He sighs and squeezes Fort Max a little. "I hoped you forgot, or you died. I hoped he destroyed your processor enough that you would be gorked, or you wouldn't know what happened. It's fucked, but I didn't want anyone else to know what happened. I wanted it to die with me."

"That's…"  _ Fucked up, awful, horrible _ … a sort of kindness Fort Max wouldn't have thought Impactor would wish him. "I thought you would hate me," he admits, "I mean, I fucked up. I let him get in."

"You didn't let him do shit," Impactor says, voice almost sharp, "Listen to me, Fortress, he nearly killed me and Springer both, not to mention Kup, Ironfist, Perceptor, and everyone else that he did kill. Springer's a damn supersoldier, I'm me, Kup's _ Kup _ , we’re Wreckers, and he almost took us all out with a sweep of his servo. We had to shoot him full of bullets that blow up your brain and set him on fire and he still didn't die. I don't care if it's mean, but you never stood a chance in hell, and it wasn't your fault that he got in and he did that."

Fort Max twists to look at Impactor, who sighs. "I'm just saying, it wasn't on you," Impactor near whispers, "Blame whoever you need to blame, hell, blame me, but don't blame yourself."

Fort Max can’t make himself speak for a minute. Rung’s told him the same thing, but he wasn’t there. He doesn’t know what went on, what Fort Max did, and Fort Max could never make him understand. “Thanks,” he answers, just as quiet as Impactor, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Impactor pats Fort Max’s side with his harpoon arm.

“Can I just… lie here for a while? Will Roadbuster be mad?” Fort Max just wants the warmth to stay. He wants to be held a little longer, and Impactor is willing to hold him.

Impactor smiles a little. “Naw, he’ll be fine. He gets it. He’s a mess too, and he knows who you are. You can stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Fort Max repeats. He settles back in a little, tucking his helm against Impactor’s shoulder again. “I needed this.”

“We all do.” Impactor squeezes Fort Max, and Fort Max closes his optics with a sigh. He doesn’t want to sleep — he still wants to get back to Red Alert and Cerebros tonight, they’ll worry if he doesn’t —but he’s so warm and comfortable here. He’ll stay just a little longer, yeah, just a half hour or so.

**Author's Note:**

> harass me on tumblr [@first-and-always](https://first-and-always.tumblr.com)


End file.
